


Keith and Pidge Die

by breadpoetsociety (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Faked Suicide, Gen, Glory Hole, M/M, Orgy, Out of Character, The Author Regrets Everything, True Love, True friends, everyone is ooc, it's always sunny in philadelphia - Freeform, not a crossover so much as a reimagining, nothing explicit anywhere, true regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 03:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/breadpoetsociety
Summary: Pidge and Keith somehow piss Keith’s Galra mom off and they fake their own deaths to save their lives. Allura, Lance, Hunk, Shiro and Coran all mourn in their own ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me father for i have sinned
> 
> this entire concept is taken from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, s4e5-6: "Mac and Charlie Die" Parts 1 and 2. thanks to rcg for creating this show and inspiring my insanity. 
> 
> readers: enjoy.

_[11 am. On a Monday. Castle of Lions, Space.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKFIDLMliHo&index=8&list=PL44156802B309E2CB) _

He had done it. Keith had officially done it. When the Blade of Marmora said that they had found his mom in some space jail two galaxies over, Keith was thrilled– finally, he’d get to learn more about himself and where he came from, and who his mother is, and why she left him on earth alone.

He was expecting someone badass, but still loving, who’d spar with him and then make him a batch of cookies. What he was  _ not  _ expecting was a ten-foot-tall tattooed woman whose never-blinking eyes threatened to murder anyone who looked at her the wrong way.  

And Keith was never phenomenal with social cues. Pidge was only marginally better.

They looked at her the wrong way. 

Immediately the pair ran from the space jail, leaving the others to negotiate freeing Keith’s mom– freeing Keith’s mom to  _ come after them _ . 

“Oh my fuck, Keith,” Pidge had yelled as they ran through the castle. “We are going to die.”

“Over my dead body,” Keith growled, and Pidge didn’t have time to explain what an oxymoronic sentence that was before Keith whoosed the door to his room open. 

The white castle floors not particularly conducive to stomping– but he stomped nonetheless. Pidge followed him in, throwing the door behind them closed. Her hair was mussed and glasses askew but she didn’t bother to fix them.

“Keith, I’m telling you, running away is not the answer,” she said, but the dark-haired man just started grabbing mysterious cans, throwing them onto the floor with a bandana and a broom-like something he had brought in with him.

“Look, Pidge, we’re gonna need supplies so just calm down, and help me throw some stuff into the stick and bindle,” Keith placed a bottle atop the bandana, and grabbed a broom. He sat on his, knife out of his back pocket, and went to work on cutting the handle off of the broom.

“Dude, no matter where we go, your mom will find us,” Pidge said, hands straining, running through her hair again and again. “And while I admit it would be awesome to be hoboes drifting from planet to planet solving mysteries, I think we need to find a real solution.”

Keith at this point had hacked the bristled end off of his broom, and started tying the bandana to the yellow wood-like handle. 

“Oh, my god, how do hoboes fit all their stuff into a bandana?” he muttered angrily, cans too large to be tied up. “It doesn’t make sense. We’re gonna need like a towel, or a tablecloth, or something but then we’re gonna look like assholes running around–”

“Wait a second dude,” Pidge suddenly hopped onto Keith’s dingy bed, avoiding the stains and tucking her knees under her. “I got an idea. Forget the bindle.” 

Keith hesitantly set his can-filled bandana back on the floor, but he still had a firm grip on the broom-stick.

“The only way that your mom is not going to kill us,” Pidge said slowly, glasses glinting. “Is if she thinks we’re already dead.”

Keith sat silent, unmoving for a moment, before a smile cracked on his face. 

“Oh, that’s great Pidge,” he said quickly, growing more animated and throwing the broom down. “Honestly I was hoping you’d say that. Let’s do it, let’s kill ourselves.”

Pidge blinked once, twice, and gently patted Keith’s arm. “No, Keith, you didn’t let me finish–”

“It’s no problem, dude, I’m totally on board, okay,” Keith said, looking at Pidge just as seriously. “I’ve got my knife, I’ll jab it into your neck and yank it out, and then your blood’s gonna start gushing everywhere–”

“Keith, no, listen–”

“You’ll die in five or ten minutes, and then depending on how horrific that looks, I’ll probably do it myself.”

“Okay, listen,” Pidge spoke quickly before her migraine really set in. “I was gonna say we  _ fake  _ our own deaths. And then she  _ thinks  _ we’re dead and she leaves us alone.”

“Yeah, right, either way works, let’s just pick one before she gets here,” Keith nodded fervently, already fiddling with the knife in his back fanny pack again.

“Let’s pick the second one. Let’s pick the second one where we don’t actually die,” Pidge said.

“Okay, we pick the second one,” Keith was already on board again, stress frazzling him to the point where any idea sounded good enough. “So we have to do it in some way that is convincing but still awesome.”

“Yeah, I mean, if we were gonna kill ourselves, it would be with class,” Pidge said thoughtfully, smoothing out a crease in Keith’s blanket.

“Of course it would be with class!” Keith threw a hand out demonstratively. “You think I’m not gonna die with class?”

Pidge just continued to think aloud: “Maybe with some type of explosion.”   


“Of course it’s going to be an explosion!” Keith was just getting louder at this point, voice cracking. “You think I’m not gonna explode?”

“I’m thinking, Keith,” and now Pidge had a proper plan, leaning towards Keith more conspiratorially, her hands shaking in excitement. “It would be some sort of  _ blaze of glory _ thing, right?”

“Of course it’s gonna be a blaze of glory,” Keith reached under his pillow and started pouring something on the sleeve of his crop jacket. “I’m going down right now, bro.”

“Keith, is that– where the fuck did you get lighter fluid? Wait, hold on, hold up!” She grabbed the bottle from him and tossed it halfway across the room. Keith just looked up at her, eyes wide.

“Did I miss something?” he asked, the fumes of the lighter fluid making their eyes water.

“You’re not getting this. I’ll walk you through the steps as we go,” Pidge said, jumping off the bed and leading Keith out and towards the hangers, talking all the way. “First step: do not douse yourself with lighter fluid.”

_[MEANWHILE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlYQ6sZNbUs&list=PL44156802B309E2CB&index=5) _

“Heyo, bitches, what’s going on in here?” Lance trapezed into the main room only to realize there was no one there. Shoulders slumped now, Lance searched the rest of the castle diligently– and found voices coming from the bathroom.

“What are you guys doing in here?” Lance said, peeking his head in and making Allura and Shiro jump.

“Oh, hey Lance,” Shiro said, relieved, and turning his attention back to something in the wall. “There’s a hole in the wall here. We’re just trying to figure out what it is.”

Lance stepped in further, inspecting said hole from a distance, before a devious smile formed on his face. “Well, well, well. How interesting.”

“What is?” Allura straightened up, tucking a piece of silvery hair behind her ear. Shiro continued to inspect the aberration, running his fingers along the sharp-cut edges. 

“Shiro, Princess,” Lance chuckled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “What you two have discovered here today is what is most commonly referred to as a glory hole.”

Shiro immediately withdrew his fingers and fell back, nervously staring up at Lance now.

“A glory hole?” Allura deadpanned.

“A secret portal created as a passageway,” Lance lowered his voice and allowed his hands to weave the story, moving in tandem with his voice. “For one to safely insert one’s… penis.”

“I’m sorry,” Allura interrupted, putting her own hand up and closing her eyes. “A hole to stick your… Human sexual appendage in?”

“Yes, Princess, the partition acts as a physical barrier thus ensuring anonymity throughout the spontaneous act of copulation,” Lance explained. Shiro stood up and brushed himself off, impressed by Lance’s professional word choice. “Or fellatio, or at the very least a hand job.”

Or, he was impressed.

“Why would you want to do that with someone you can’t see?” Allura asked, less curious and more horrified.

“Well, Princess, I think the real question is,” and at that Lance started bending down himself to inspect the glory hole. “Why wouldn’t you want to have sex with someone you couldn’t see? I’m a bit surprised that you’re not more familiar with this concept, aliens seem to lead the way in sexual exploration.”

Allura nodded. That was fair.

“This,” Shiro finally found his voice, clearing his throat. “Sounds hot. Do you think Coran has any duct tape?”

“Well, wait,” Allura suddenly looked thoughtful. “What about whoever is on the other side of that wall? What if they’re not to your liking?”

“Can’t see them,” Lance shrugged, standing up.

“What if it is a male?” Allura postulated, eyes narrowing.

Lance just shrugged again. “I’m bi.”

“And he’s had the hots for Keith for months,” Shiro said contemplatively, ignoring Lance’s indignant outburst and flushed face. “This could actually work in our favor.”

“Our favor?” Allura smirked, cogs already working to scheme. She, too, ignored the aggrieved Lance.

“To get the two togeth–”

“That’s enough,” Lance stopped sputtering long enough to interrupt them, stomping out of the room as he ranted. “I do not need my mom and dad trying to get me to stick my dick through a hole in the wall for Keith to suck. And I don’t want Keith to suck my dick! With or without the wall hole! Stupid Keith and his stupid pretty hair and nice face don’t get to be near my dick!”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Allura immediately turned to Shiro and grinned. “We’re getting his dick in that wall hole.”

Shiro turned bright red but still nodded. The pair left to plot their matchmaking scheme.

_[MEANWHILE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4w0z_iHJzg&index=14&list=PL44156802B309E2CB) _

“Keith, focus!”

“Hang on, I just got a message from Lance, he’s begging me not to go into the bathroom on the first floor, left side, so now I really want to go in the bathroom on the first floor, left side.”

Pidge didn’t have time to explain that they didn’t have time for this when, there was a knock on Keith’s door.

“Oh, shit,” Pidge and Keith whispered in unison.

“We don’t have time for this,” Pidge growled. She grabbed her laptop and Keith’s tablet, ready to run. 

“You think it’s my mom?” Keith said lowly, bayard ready when a more familiar voice spoke.

“Hey, Keith, can I talk to you for a second?” Shiro said, voice muffled by the door. “I need to talk to you about, uh, something. In the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” Keith perked up curiously, heading towards the door before Pidge stopped him.

“No, wait, dude,” she said, trying to stay quiet but her excitement was getting the better of her. “We need to snatch the keys to the pod bay off of him. So if you do that, I’ll grab everything else, and we can get out of here.”

“Already?” Keith looked nervous for a second, before steeling himself. “All right. Still curious about that bathroom though.”

“It’s probably something stupid with Lance,” Pidge said, before knocking herself in the head. Yeah, talking about Lance would be the fastest way to get Keith to leave. “Whatever. You take care of Shiro, get the keys and then we run to the pod bay, okay?”

Keith nodded. Shiro was about to knock again when Keith whooshed the door open and his palm immediately met Shiro’s face. The older man fell backwards, yelling something about insolent children, but Keith was too fast for him. He snagged the pod bay’s key card out of Shiro’s left fanny pack and his wallet out of his right– and booked it. Pidge was fast on his heels. 

“All right,” he yelled, waving his arms victoriously. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

A quick change into their paladin uniforms and they were in a cramped pod heading as far and as fast as Keith Kogane could take them. The pair breathed heavily, excitement pumping more adrenaline into their systems, and Pidge kept muttering the details of their plan.

“Okay,” Pidge said, typing a few more lines of code into the Altean tablet before shutting it off and turning to Keith. “We’re probably far enough away. Want to go over everything one more time?”

“Not really,” Keith said, picking at the gloves of his paladin armor. Pidge sighed.

“There’s a tracking device on the tablet, so everyone back at the castle will find our video. They’ll think we did this at the last minute. And we’ve got our disguises, so we ditch the Voltron uniforms and we can go down to that swap moon to work things out from there,” Pidge quickly rattled off. “Keith, what are you thinking for the suicide?”

“Well, I know you kept installing those could-possibly-explode light speed buttons in every pod. So I’m thinking we start gunning this thing, hit that button. Pod explodes in hot ball of fury, and we’re dead to the universe,” Keith said. He started to reach for the glowing button before Pidge grabbed his arm.

“No, wait, I, uh,” she rubbed the back of her head nervously, before giving Keith a toothy smile and  thumbs up. “Good luck with that!”

Pidge was already out of the pod before Keith was able to start yelling.

“Where the hell are you going?” Pidge finally switched her comms on, but she could practically see steam coming from the pod a few feet from her.

“I’m just gonna watch you do it!”

“We need to do it together!”

“Well, I wouldn’t really be doing anything! Besides, I have to get the tablet floating just right, and–”

“You would be doing something Pidge! You’d be here for moral support–”

“–if no one is actually seeing us jump out of the pod or anything–”

“We’re gonna kill ourselves together, it’s a suicide pact, it’s not–”

“Keith!” Pidge finally screamed into her microphone, making her compatriot jump out of his seat. “Just push the damn button. You’ve done it before, you’ll be fine again.”

“Fine,” Keith muttered, the bitter words stuck in his teeth. “Chickenshit.”

He counted down slowly, releasing a breath with each number. 3. Patience. 2. Yields. 1. Focus.

One single push of a button and–

Pidge was screaming. Pidge was screaming louder than she ever had, or probably ever will. The pod exploded in a blast of white light, throwing the Red Paladin from his seat and floating into the inky space. Some of his suit had broken off, and–

“Keith! Keith, are you okay?” Pidge screeched, using her booster to rocket over to where he was floating. The pod was still half-intact, and fell down to the moon below with a dramatic white trail. “Keith, holy shit? Why didn’t you jump out? With the bag?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Pidge, I’m fine,” Keith was awake, thank god, eyes wide and blood running down the side of his face. “It just. It went too fast!”

“Well, we still need to destroy it, somehow it only half blew up,” Pidge said, frustrated and still holding tight to Keith. “And we need new hobo supplies now... and we need to get you to a hospital, or something.”

“No way, Pidgeotto–” that was a Lance thing to say. Interesting. “–Gotta stay off the grid. I’m fine, I’m totally fine. Let’s go shopping on the swap moon.”

“All right,” Pidge said, and with a manic laugh she started boosting down to the planet below them.

It didn’t take long for Pidge to jet them down onto the small moon’s surface– dusty, and with almost no one around. Their pod lay abandoned in its orange desert, white shell cracked and glass all gone.

mShe could see a swap market, a ten minute’s walk away, and much more akin to what Coran had promised them last time they went to a space mall. Let’s fucking do this, then. Keith was humming to himself, occasionally reaching up and touching the blood that was drying on his forehead.

“Unilu market, dude? We’re not gonna find something to burn the pod here, Pidge,” Keith was muttering as they walked. Pidge adjusted Keith’s helmet to try and cover his battered face a little more.

“Well, we need to find  _ something  _ to get rid of the evidence, Keith,” she said firmly, leading him by the hand through the outskirts of the market, heading down dusty alleyways and peeking her head from shop to shop. “And we need our disguises.”

“Why do we need disguises though? Why not just hang out in our cool magic lion suits?”

“Dude, we’ve been talking about this since we got  _ in  _ the pod hours ago. We can’t stay in our Voltron suits because we’re trying to run away,” and finally she found a shady-enough clothing store for her liking, leading Keith in while still talking. “And we’re trying to  _ hide _ . You know, I say something and you just don’t get it. Are you sure you’re okay? Your ear is bleeding a lot.”

“I am fine!” Keith said in a loud, high pitched voice, an unconvincing smile breaking his face. “I feel like one million dollars!”

“Well, okay then Mr. Million Dollars, come on, let’s find some disguises that’ll–”

“Oh, Pidge,” Keith was suddenly whispering now, almost reverently, and holding up a thick white fabric. “Look at this wedding dress, dude. That’s saaaaaad.”

Pidge almost dropped the goggles she was holding and stared at Keith, hoping the intensity of her glare would get through his thick skull.

“Okay, that is not going to blow our pod up, okay,” she said, trying to distract Keith back to the problem at hand. “Can you focus? Will you please find a way to focus?”

Keith nodded and followed Pidge up to a glass countertop, adorned by a register and full of various weaponry.

“Oh shit, dude, now we’re talking,” she said gleefully, hands pressed against the glass.

“Woah, that looks like Lance’s bayard!” Keith said, growing more excited too. “I had no idea they sold guns here.”

“Look, Keith, swap moons are like pawn shops or international waters. They sell everything here. People come in and they just trade stuff, you know?” Pidge was moving up and down the counter, looking to see if anything was better than that blasty grey gun– like an off brand version of a bayard rifle– but nothing else caught her eye.

“Let’s pick this bad boy up,” Keith said, smiling. “Shit. That’s awesome. You’ll sure we’ll have enough money for this and the wedding dress, though, right?”

Pidge straightened up and stared so dryly it felt like the Sahara was going to pour out of her eyeballs. But Keith paid no heed, still muttering more to himself than anyone else.

“Cause that,” he tapped the glass below him, “Is a great gun.”

After a moment of silence, Pidge finally spoke. “We’re not buying the wedding dress.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re buying the wedding dress,” Keith crossed his arms and glared down at his compatriot. “We can’t just leave it here!”

“We absolutely can just leave it here! It’s not going to help us in any way, shape, or form!” Pidge practically screamed.

“That’s crazy, Pidgeon. That’s  _ crazy _ .”

“Okay, you know what,” Pidge closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down before speaking again. Her fingers rubbed circles on her temples. “That pod wreck scrambled your circuits. You are losing your mind. So please, just let me handle this. I have Shiro’s wallet, we have plenty of money, I know what I’m doing.”

“All right,” Keith said warily. He kept glancing at the dress out of the corner of his eye.

“Sir, excuse me, sir,” Pidge rapped on the glass, calling the attention of the Unilu man from his office. As he strutted out, Pidge continued. “Hi, um. We are in  _ desperate  _ need of something that will destroy a pod and annihilate any traces of a living being?”

It was a moment of silence as the gruff man glanced between the bleeding Keith and the manic Pidge, before he turned back to his office and mumbled, “Let me see what I got.”

Pidge continued tapping the glass excitedly. Keith, meanwhile, stared at the wedding dress when he thought Pidge wasn’t looking. The shopkeep rummage through a couple of plastic drawers before returning with what looked like an avocado.

“Oh,” Pidge said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Well, this is an interesting turn. Is this a–”

“A hand bomb– a grenade. They make things explode,” the man explained dryly.

“Yes, sir, we are very familiar,” Pidge picked it up and inspected the bumpy green oval, tossing it from hand to hand. “I’m assuming this is a live grenade, yes?”

“Oh yeah,” the guy said.

“Well, then, we’ll take it,” Pidge said, pulling Shiro’s wallet out from her boot.

Keith nodded, laughing, before looking to Pidge and whispering, “Do you think the wedding took place on this planet, or…?”

“I don’t know, I have no idea, stop asking me about it,” Pidge growled, impatiently, and turned to the shopkeeper. “Sir, do you have anything that might get my friend’s head here on straight? He’s losing his mind.”

“I got some poppers in the back,” the man shrugged, and started to head to the drawers before Pidge was even able to nod.

“Hold them for us here, please,” Pidge said, setting the blaster and the grenade near the register. She started strutting around the store, picking out objects for their disguise, and tried her damndest to ignore Keith who was staggering like a drunk man and singing to himself.

A jacket here, a pair of goggles there, some angular glasses and the next thing they knew they were standing again in front of their half-destroyed pod, Pidge dressed like the locals and Keith in a wedding gown.

“Okay,” Pidge said slowly, trying to keep Keith engaged. “I’m going to throw this grenade into the pod. The pod will explode and our problems will be solved. In the meantime, I’m going to need you to do this popper.”

“Okay, I understand the plan, but when do we find the bride?” Keith ran a hand through his mussed up hair, helmet long forgotten in the store from the swap market. 

“Don’t even start, man.”

“That is a very important part of my plan,” Keith punctuated each word with a swing of his deactivated bayard, having no pockets in the dress to hold it.

“Look, you’ve been talking crazy for too long. Please just inhale this unknown alien psychoactive and we can get on with our day,” Pidge said, popping the cap off the little yellow bottle and holding it to Keith’s bloody nose. He inhaled, and–

“Woah!” Keith cried out, eyes suddenly focused though he shook his head. “Okay!”

“Are you back?” Pidge asked, grabbing his collar to pull him down to eye level. Keith nodded excitedly. “Okay! Our boy is back. Let’s get this explosion thing on the road!”

She pulled the pin out of the grenade, and ran the avocado explosive to the pod, dropping it in with a feather-light toss. Pidge sprinted back and cowered behind Keith, who activated his bayard’s shield to protect from the explosion. They laughed excitedly, gearing up for the blow when–

The pod’s horn honked, it shook, and pathetically thin smoke poured out of the cracked and missing windows.

“That’s it?” Keith stepped forward, deactivating the shield. He adjusted the shoulder of the dress– it was a little narrow on his broad torso. “How lame.”

“Weird,” Pidge said, running back to the pod and staring inside. “It must have been defective!”

“Piece of shit Unilu,” Keith grumbled, and he grabbed the gun they had bought. “Okay, new plan. Gun. Pod gas tank. Assuming they use gas like ours, I should be able to make it explode.”

Pidge was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess we don’t really have a better plan.”

The shots pinged off the scuffed white of the pod, all around where Keith assumed the gas tank was but never quite on target. Pidge was yelling the whole time about doing more poppers and forced them under Keith's nose, but he just could not make the pod go up in a flaming ball of awesome fury. Sixteen shots from the blaster rang out in the desert before the pair gave up with a screamy kind of groan. 

“Damn it! I wish we had our sharpshooter,” Keith said pensively, staring at the blaster in his hand. Pidge almost felt sorry for him, but focus and panic took over.

“You know what, this is good enough. Maybe they’ll think we just, I don’t know, started floating through space and disintegrated,” Pidge said, stomping away. “We're fine, we have Shiro's credit card so we're fine. Let’s just find somewhere to set up camp. It’s hobo time.”

_[MEANWHILE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4w0z_iHJzg) _

“Hey Coran,” Lance sidled up to the mustachioed man, tucking his hands in his pockets while Coran continued typing away on the main holographic keyboard. “You know that hole Allura and Shiro found the other day?”

“Certainly,” he said, swiping what he was typing away in favor of a map. “An anonymous copulation device. Very interesting!”

“Yeah! Well, with all this glory hole excitement, I really would like to meet some nice alien broads, and I thought you’d know the place to go for that,” Lance said, trying to act smooth and failing miserably.

“Broads– like gentlemen? But isn’t Keith–” Lance blanched and almost started screeching.

“No. No. Look, no gender preferences, no nothing, just a nice anonymous sex experience,” he said, hands waving in the air as though they could distract from what Coran tried to imply.

“Well,” Coran started swiping through the map now, locating a planet only one galaxy over. “The planet Punare is infamous for that! And we should still have the necessary supplies for a trip. I’d be happy to take you down!”

“What’s this about supplies for a trip?” Shiro was in the control room now, stalking towards the holomap. “We need to stay on our game, guys, no vacations. Zarkon could attack at any moment.”

“It’s pretty important, though. We were gonna go have gloryhole sex on the planet Punare,” Lance explained casually. Shiro stared at Lance for two and a half whole minutes without blinking before turning to Coran and speaking firmly.

“That _is_ incredibly important. Coran, what sort of supplies would we need?” he asked. And with a fist pump, Lance was off to grab three dark robes and some Masks of Carnal Knowledge. Coran set a course for Punare.

Not an hour later, the three men were dressed in the proper garb and entering a dark grey building– it looked almost like an apartment or a hotel, and the walls were splotched with something like color-changing mildew. It only took a few minutes inside the place for Lance to speak up, voice hesitant.

“Um,” Lance pulled the mask up from his face, eyes roving the grimy blue walls. “I’m starting to have second thoughts about this sex party thing, Coran.”

“Lance, you had second thoughts about the glory hole, and now you’re going to be skittish about the sex party?” Shiro spoke from behind him, voice muffled by the bird-like mask that he was still wearing. Coran tutted and turned another corner, counting the doors as he went.

“You did say you wanted to have anonymous intercourse, my boy,” Coran said. He finally stopped walking, stopping them at a dismally dirty door at the end of the hall, adorned with a glowing squiggle like the number 3. “This is the place!”

“I do wanna have anonymous sex, I wanna have anonymous sex, I want the sex party, I want the glory hole, I want all those things, but  _ guys _ ,” Shiro and Coran turned to Lance as he kept rambling. “What I’m having a hard time believing is that there is an elite secret sex society behind that door in this building.”

“I don’t tell many people this, Lance,” Coran said conspiratorially. “But I used to run with this crew. These people were the most influential, powerful, sexiest people in the Trappex Galaxy!”

“Think they kept that up for ten thousand years?” Lance deadpanned.

“Why are they having an orgy in such a run-down building, Coran?” Shiro asked, trying to placate both sides.

“Yeah, I thought these things went down in like… a fancy castle, or a mansion!” Lance whisper-yelled. They could hear voices on the other side of the door, mumbling.

“No, no, nobody is going to have an orgy in their castle, all over their nice furniture! That doesn’t make sense,” Coran wiped a tear from his eye as he laughed.

“Well, no, it doesn’t,” Lance muttered, turning to Shiro, who motioned for him to put on his own bird-like mask. “All right, that’s a good point. Let’s do it.”

Coran smiled and adjusted his mask before turning and knocking on the door five times, slowly. A paunchy man– well, it looked like a man– opened the door almost immediately, feathers adorning his spiky mask.

“What is the password,” he said in a rumbling voice. He had on some sort of wifebeater and an open robe, similar to the ones the gang was wearing, but tan. His navy blue skin was glistening with sweat.

“Oooooooooorrrrrrrrggyyyyyyyyyy,” Coran said, mimicking his tone and speaking as slowly as possible. The man looked from Coran to Shiro and finally to Lance, taking in their dark black robes and the long-beaked masked.

“You may enter,” he finally said, and he stepped aside to let them into the room.

“Orgy? Seriously?” Lance couldn’t help but to say, completely dumbfounded. He looked to Shiro– but he had already run to the back of the room, enticed by a table laden with food covered in what looked like cheese.

The room was decently full with a variety of aliens, a veritable Crayola box of colors and models. Some looked similar to the man who answered the door– tall, with dark blue and purple skin, and ridges on their shoulders. Others were shorter and stubbier, pale with webbed fingers. But three things remained the same: everyone was in a woefully undercovering robe, everyone was ugly, and everyone was sweating.

“What the hell is this place?” Lance whispered angrily to Coran, following him as he followed Shiro. “What did you bring me to?”

“This,” Coran extended his arms, using his left to grab a plate. “Is a buffet.”

“I can see that it is a buffet. But why is there a buffet at a god damn orgy, Coran?” Lance’s hands went to his temples but were blocked by the hard plastic of his mask.

“You don’t wanna bang on an empty stomach, do you?” Shiro said through a mouthful of some reddish casserole.

“I don’t really want to bang any of these people anyway,” Lance said.

“They’re not Keith,” Coran and Shiro said at the same time, giving each other a knowing, pitying look.

“No! No,” Lance all but screeched, hands balling into fists and shaking. “Because they are all paunchy and weird and old!”

“You can’t tell under the masks,” Coran said, spooning– were those buffalo wings?– onto his plate.

"You can absolutely tell. You can absolutely tell under the masks,” Lance muttered, more to himself than to the other men at the buffet. He turned and his eyes caught a man on a couch, plate of food balanced precariously on his protruding green stomach. “I mean, jesus christ, that guy is not even wearing a mask.”

“You know, he’s got the right idea. This beak is interfering with my nosh,” Shiro said, lifting the mask to the top of his head and diving right back into his plate of food.

“What are you– please don’t take it off,” Lance pleaded. “God, damn it. What are we doing here, man? How is this even an orgy? Nobody is even having sex! It’s just like a… A half-nude buffet party!”

“Well, it’s not what I expected either,” Coran admitted, also removing his mask to dig into the purple and green goos that lined his plate. “But it’s okay. There’s a lot of food.”

“Shiro, Coran,” Lance’s fists still shook, and he punctuated each word with them. “I think we can agree this is not the kind of anonymous sex we are looking for!”

“Would you like to go down to the ocean? The Punare docks are famous for their nightlife, and I’m sure there’s some sex to be had under them!” Coran suggested cheerfully.

“What in god’s name could be under some docks?” Lance shook his head and started heading back towards the entrance, past the sweaty people, still muttering. “I’m going back to the castle. I’m going back to the gloryhole, that’s something I feel like I can wrap my head around. This is ridiculous.”

“Hey, Coran, isn’t this the kind of food goo we have back on the ship?” Shiro was asking. Lance almost bumped into one of the women, green skin adorned by orange feathers.

“Holy christ, it’s like a bad acid trip in here,” he said, and as quickly as he could move his long legs he was out the door and back to the castle, Mask of Carnal Knowledge back in storage and memories repressed.

But it only took a day for the gloryhole to call Lance back– and he found Shiro in the same position, inspecting it with a reverence that only a duct-taped dick hole can inspire. It didn’t take long for the two to be muttering together, trying to figure out a new scheme.

“Look, I bet if we blindfolded her, and had her come in from the other side, she’d do it!”

“But dude, we have no idea what she’s working with. For all we know, she could use the glory ho–”

“Shiro! Lance!” Allura’s voice echoed in the bathroom, interrupting Shiro’s questionable train of thought. She ran in, brow furrowed and out of breath, and Hunk was hot on her heels. “Come quickly, you have to see this immediately!”

The group sprinted to the central area of the castle, where control room’s large screen was brightly lit. Coran was standing at the controls, staring up at the frozen faces of Keith and Pidge.

“Keith!” Lance yelled, stepping forward. His voice betrayed his worry. “Where has he been? What is this video?”

“It’s just–” Allura’s voice caught, her eyes wide with shock. She avoided everyone’s eyes, staring down at her own skirt instead. “According to the Galactic Galran Police Force, Pidge and Keith are dead.”

Shiro almost collapsed at that, caught only by Hunk’s shaking arm. Lance couldn’t blink– couldn’t breathe– couldn’t move– and Coran started to play the video.

“Okay, okay is the camera on?” Keith was saying, hand over the lens. All that could be seen were Pidge’s glasses and Keith’s mullet until Pidge slapped his hand away.

“Yeah, we’re good, okay?” she was saying, and the pair faced the camera. They were seated in the front two seats of a pod and the camera was set in the back. Great dramatic framing.

“Shiro, Allura, Coran, Hunk, and Lance, if you’re watching this then we’re already dead,” Pidge said plainly, eyes invisible behind the glare of her glasses.

“Our lives were horrible,” Keith cut in, brow furrowed and frown serious. “Horrible and sad. So we decided to end it all.”

“Well, not mine, actually, my life was pretty sweet,” Pidge took over again, not looking at Keith, but her head shake was definitely directed at him. “But Keith and I had a suicide pact, and I have to honor that, because I will die an honorable man– person. Woman? I don’t care anymore.”

“Well, wait, in that case, my life was pretty sweet also–”

Pidge didn’t allow Keith any room to speak anymore. “There’s also a will enclosed, and you definitely have to do all of that, because it’s intergalactic law. You ready to do this?”

Keith stopped his spluttering to give Pidge a soft smile. The friends turned to the front of the pod, and as Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory” started to play, they grasped hands tightly–

And the screen went dark. For too many long moments, the room was silent, and then Hunk sobbed. 

“I can’t believe they’re dead,” Shiro said, voice thick with unshed tears.

“I can’t believe,” Lance cleared his throat and ran a hand down his face, trying to hide his own tear tracks. “I can’t believe they didn’t include me in their suicide pact.”

“What?” Coran’s indignant voice cut through the sad atmosphere of the room. He turned to face the group, twirling his moustache. “You’re crazy. They’re not dead! They’re definitely doing something stupid enough to get them killed, but they’re not dead!”

Shiro almost leapt at Coran, Galra arm only staying deactivated by Lance interrupting his attack.

“You saw the tape, Coran,” he cried, voice shrill and shaking. His face was drained. “Practically my little sister– and– and Keith– went out in a blaze of glory. And they didn’t even ask me to be a part of it!”

“You can say your boyfriend, you know,” Coran said, prompting another shriek out of Lance. The blue paladin stalked over to his control room chair and reached under it. He revealed several shot glasses– each emblazoned with a letter– and a bottle of nunville.

“I promise, my boy, that this is ridiculous,” the mustachioed man was saying while Lance poured himself, Shiro, and Hunk two shots apiece. “I mean– really. They left us a list of demands.”

“What are you talking about?” Shiro said, half-coughing from the stiff nunville. Two shots down, and Lance was pouring two more for him. His tears made a lovely chaser. “That’s their last will and testament. That is not demands!”

“The document is literally named List of Demands,” Allura pointed out, scrolling through the long list on the light blue tablet. Lance generously shared one of his shots with her as she read.

“Pidge’s number one asks that her ashes be made into a tea to be drank by everyone on the castleship,” she said, trying to hide her disgust.

Lance didn’t even try. “Gross, but all right. Consider it done. What’s next?”

“Keith’s number one: in lieu of a body, which was most likely blown up in the most awesome way imaginable, I would like my fingerless gloves to be burned and its ashes buried on Arus.” Everyone nodded but Lance, who just poured six more shots.

“Well, that is in no way happening,” Lance said amicably. Shiro gave him a dangerous glare before he was distracted by Allura’s voice again.

“And Shiro,” she was saying. “Keith requests that you name your firstborn child Murphy, because that was Robo-Cop’s name.”

Shiro and Allura stared blankly at each other for an uncomfortably long amount of time, wordlessly agreeing that they would not be naming their firstborn son Murphy, and then wordlessly freaking out that they wordlessly agreed they together would be having a firstborn son.

“I can’t believe Keith wants to burn those gloves,” Lance was muttering to himself. “I love those things. I’m not burning them. God damn it, Keith is dead and he’s still bossing me around!”

“Keith is not dead, Lance,” Coran deadpanned and started steering the castleship to the nearest swap moon on the map– maybe a day’s flight away, if they meandered.

“How can you be so cold?” Hunk asked, tears still falling from his eyes. Lance comforted his friend with a hug and an encouragement to drink more alcohol.

“He blew up one of my pods! I had just cleaned it!” And now the stress was getting to Coran, his orange hair even falling out of plance.

“Not burning the gloves,” Lance sing-songed, taking his fifth shot after a cheers with Shiro.

“And you’re still talking about your stupid kink?” Hunk turned his wrath on Lance now.

“Absolutely!” Lance screamed back. “Wait, no! Not kink!”

“Kink?” Allura and Shiro cried out together, half terrified and half ecstatic.

“Not a kink!” the blue paladin shrieked as he slammed the bottle of nunville down.

_[MEANWHILE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUKy_OwuXv8&list=PL44156802B309E2CB&index=10) _

“I have no–… you’re so broken up about… glove kink–… they’re people!” the voices of Team Voltron crackled through the old radio that Pidge had jury-rigged, enabling her and Keith to listen in to their wailing teammates

“Glove kink, huh,” Pidge muttered to herself. Keith had built them a small fire, a few miles away from their crashlanded pod, and was roasting the space equivalent of hot dogs over the flames. She had tried to talk him out of wearing the wedding gown but apparently it would be “wasteful to take off.”

“They sound really broken up,” Keith called to Pidge, turning the hot dogs carefully with a stick. “They’re screaming pretty badly. Lance especially.”

“They’re really bitching,” Pidge replied, standing up and joining Keith closer to the fire. “I’m excited about the hot dogs, really.”

“Yeah, me too,” Keith said, and then his eyes widened. “Oh, crap!”

Pidge steeled herself. “What?”

“We should’ve gotten beans, Pidge! Hoboes are always eating beans,” Keith’s eyes never left the flames, something that would be less concerning if he would take the wedding dress off or clean up some of the blood off his face. “Damn.”

“We’ll be fine without the beans,” Pidge said, attention still more on the radio in the sand. Hunk was yelling at Shiro about slapping someone with his Galra arm, Shiro arguing he was protecting Keith’s honor. She almost missed it.

“This is a pretty good hiding spot,” she said after a few moments of quiet between them. The sky hung a deep purple above them, with an orange moon decorating it. “Gorgeous view, too.”

Keith looked up and nodded, taking in the gorgeous sky, the ever-familiar stars, and the cool wind before whispering. “Would’ve been better with beans, though."

 

_[TO BE CONTINUED](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKFIDLMliHo&list=PL44156802B309E2CB&index=8) _

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on tumblr @ breadpoetsociety and twitter @ breadpoetsociet


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